


The Shape of You

by wilddragonflying



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Genderbending, Its really thorki i swear, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Pre-Canon, Thor doesn't know he's fucking his brother, at the beginning at least, it's Loki, might be a good tag for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 04:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: Thor's muscles ached as he wandered the halls of Asgard's palace. Today's training had run long, and he had sparred with opponent after opponent, but he had emerged victorious in most of those mock fights. He can't help a wince when lifting a foot to climb a staircase; those fights had not really been 'mock,' after all. Sif had landed a punishing blow to the side of his knee, one that had sent him hobbling from the yard.No matter; night has fallen by now, and Thor has already eaten. Tonight, he wants nothing more than a warm bath, and perhaps someone to share it with...Preoccupied with imagining a potential bathmate, Thor does not notice the door to his chambers are ajar until he has already shoved them open - and caught an intruder in his rooms. He blinks, then frowns at the girl who's frozen by his bed.





	The Shape of You

Thor's muscles ached as he wandered the halls of Asgard's palace. Today's training had run long, and he had sparred with opponent after opponent, but he had emerged victorious in most of those mock fights. He can't help a wince when lifting a foot to climb a staircase; those fights had not really been 'mock,' after all. Sif had landed a punishing blow to the side of his knee, one that had sent him hobbling from the yard.

No matter; night has fallen by now, and Thor has already eaten. Tonight, he wants nothing more than a warm bath, and perhaps someone to share it with...

Preoccupied with imagining a potential bathmate, Thor does not notice the door to his chambers are ajar until he has already shoved them open - and caught an intruder in his rooms. He blinks, then frowns at the girl who's frozen by his bed. "And who are you?" he asks, perhaps a bit shortly, but he does not recognize her as one of the servants, nor does he remember Frigga saying anything about hiring any new servants.

The girl is clearly scrambling for an answer; her gaze flits between Thor and the still-open door behind him before she finally clears her throat. "Brunnhilde," she answers, her voice soft though her gaze is hard when she meets and holds his gaze. Something stirs in Thor's chest, something _interested_. Brunnhilde is lean, though Thor can see the shift of the muscles in her arms as her hands clench into fists at her side. Her hair is long, the black tresses braided over one shoulder, and she nearly reaches his own height.

Thor steps forward, careful not to truly trap Brunnhilde should she reject what he is planning to offer, but... Well, he _did_ catch her in his rooms. She could be a spy from another realm, could be an assassin, but there is little than can kill an Asgardian, and less than that that can kill the God of Thunder. "And what, _Brunnhilde,_ are you doing in my rooms?" he asks, not expecting an answer before he continues. "Were you searching for something? Or someone?"

Thor has to give the girl credit for holding her ground; she lifts her chin, stubbornness flashing in her eyes as she asks, "What are you going to do with my answer?"

Thor laughs, the sound low and rumbling like a storm gathering on the horizon. "I was planning to make you an offer. I have had a long day at the training grounds, and find myself in need of some... relaxation. I would not mind company."

Her eyes widen, and Thor's gaze drops for a moment to watch the way her chest moves as she sucks in a breath, clearly startled by his boldness. When he doesn't rescind the offer, however, her eyes narrow. "And why would you choose the company of someone you caught in your rooms?" she demands. "I could be an assassin, slipping something lethal between your sheets, or hiding a poisonous serpent in your drawers."

Thor grins. "Well, you could be," he admits. "But the fact that you have not tried to kill me since I found you suggests that you are not. You are a beautiful woman, and one with a sharp mind and a tongue to match. I think we could have great fun together, you and I - if you wish it."

Brunnhilde is still eyeing him suspiciously, so after a moment Thor shrugs, affecting nonchalance as he backs away. "If you change your mind, I'll be through that door," he says, nodding towards the door that leads to his bathing chambers. "If you don't care to join me, I assume you know how to leave this room." He takes a chance, then, turning his back on Brunnhilde so that he can begin stripping out of his armor, laying it out neatly before heading for his long-awaited bath.

He hears nothing from the other room as he draws the water and activates the heating stones. It's not until he settles into the lightly-scented bath that he hears any indication of Brunnhilde's choice, and that comes with the sound of his bedchamber's door closing. Thor sighs, mildly disappointed; she had been quite attractive, and Thor would not have minded in the least being able to get his hands on her, and feel her hands on him in return.

Then he hears footsteps on the tile of the bath chamber. A grin has already stolen its way across his face as he turns towards the sound, a grin that only grows wider as he sees Brunnhilde's dress drop from her shoulders. "I see you made your decision," he observes, watching and only barely refraining from licking his lips as she discards the rest of her clothes.

"I have," she answers, coming to the edge of the bath and lowering herself so that she sits on the edge, legs dangling into the water. Her hair is still braided, though no longer over her shoulder, and Thor takes his time looking her over, committing each detail to memory. He was right in thinking that she was deceptively lean; her body puts him in mind of Loki's, truthfully. Better suited to daggers and magic than axes and broadswords. Her skin is pale, warmed by the golden tile and flushed with the steam of the room and the water, and Thor can feel himself hardening as his gaze sweeps lower, over her chest, down her stomach, and to the curls she doesn't even try to hide between her legs.

Thor shifts on the ledge he's sitting on, the better to face Brunnhilde as he asks, "And what decision have you made?" He doesn't dare move until he hears from her own lips that she wants this - wants _him_.

Brunnhilde's smile turns into a smirk, her legs widening as she says, "I have decided I wish to see if the God of Thunder lives up to the rumors his conquests tell about him."

Thor pushes off of the ledge, the water of the bath swirling around him as he moves forward, fitting himself between her legs, close enough that he can feel her chest brush his with each breath she takes. "What rumors do they tell about me?" he asks, barely more than a murmur as he catches her gaze, his hands bracing on the side of the bath, close enough to feel the heat of her skin against the insides of his forearms.

It would be impossible to miss the way that Brunnhilde's gaze drops before meeting his once more. "They say," she breathes, tongue darting out to wet her lips, "that you are... _very_ talented with your mouth."

A slow smirk spreads across Thor's expression. "Well," he hums, "I can certainly give you a demonstration." And before she can do more than open her mouth, Thor swoops in to claim it.

The kiss is far from chaste - they're both naked in his bath, the time for 'chaste' is long past - but Thor does not plunder her mouth, does not lay waste nor seige to it, either. He coaxes Brunnhilde into a dance, leading her into the sensuous give and take that makes his head spin in the most delightful way. He brings one hand up, fingers drifting over her ribs before he reaches her chest; he takes the weight of one breast in his palm, thumb curling to rub firmly over her nipple, the flesh there hardening under his touch. He swallows her gasp when his other hand mirros the movement, and he takes a moment to savor the feeling, kneading the flesh in his hands slowly before he pulls away from her mouth and ducks his head to place a kiss on her breastbone before shifting his attention to her breasts in earnest.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, placing a kiss over the swell of her breast before he moves lower, taking her into his mouth and sucking lightly, teeth nipping and tugging to elicit a gasp he soothes with his tongue. He gives the other breast the same treatment, and when he glances back up, he can't help a smirk at how _wrecked_ Brunnhilde looks already - and he's barely started. Reluctantly, he pulls back, but only so that he can adjust both of them, pulling her closer to the edge so that he can kneel on the seat, hooking her thighs over his shoulders and placing a kiss to the inside of one as he grins up at her. "How do I compare so far?"

Brunnhilde blinks at him for a moment. "Ah, not - not terribly," she concedes. "I may need some more convincing, though."

Thor's response is a low chuckle; his hands settle on her waist as he settles himself more comfortably on the bench. He takes a moment to take in the view; this is the moment he loves the most, savoring his and his partner's anticipation of what's to come. He wonders if Brunnhilde is the kind of woman to keep her legs spread, no matter how hard she trembles, or if she'll use her leverage to keep him pinned so that she can ride his tongue to her satisfaction. He finds himself eager to see, and wastes no time in diving in, tongue delving between her folds to where she's already slick, moving upwards in a slow drag until he finds her clit.

He can barely hear the noise she makes as he circles her clit with his tongue, but he certainly feels her legs tighten around his head, one of her hands burying itself in his hair, twisting the strands tightly in her grasp. A more demanding partner, then, Thor decides, and allows her to move his head where she wants. It's her body, after all; presumably, she knows best how to pleasure herself. Thor's more than happy to be used in such a manner, his tongue working eagerly to bring her closer to completion. He can feel it in the way her grip tightens to almost painful, in the way her hips squirm beneath his hands, the way her thighs clench around his head, and when she finally comes, he doesn't stop until she's pulling him away.

Thor gasps like a drowning man, desperate for air, but only gets a brief respite before Brunnhilde's eeyes flash and she uses her hold on his hair to haul him up into a bruising kiss. She licks the taste of herself from his lips, and Thor can do little but hold on for the ride. When she finally pulls back, it's only to rest her forehead against his and murmur, "You've proven your talent with your tongue. But I can't help but wonder if you're as good with your cock." As she speaks, her other hand drifts from his shoulder to his waist, fingers skimming over his skin and causing barely a ripple in the water as they slide lower, dragging over the crease of his thigh before wrapping around his cock and stroking, the movement firm and confident.

Thor growls, the sound little more than a rumble in his chest as he wraps an arm arouond Brunnhilde's waist, spinning them so that he can sit her on the bench, water sloshing over the edge of the bath as he does. He slides between her legs once again, his cock rubbing against her slit. "Perhaps another demonstration is in order."

"I think it is," Brunnhilde agrees with a laugh, though she pushes him away and raises herself to her knees. "But not this way. If you want to impress me, then take me from behind." She turns around, giving Thor a glorious view of her ass before she bends over, elbows resting on the edge of the bath. He can see her pussy from this angle, and the sight before him has his mouth going dry and his cock twitching. When she looks over her shoulder, expression impatient, Thor wastes no more time. He takes her by the hips, squeezing once before pulling her back as he thrusts forward, using one hand to guide his cock. He groans as her tight heat envelopes him, using both hands to keep them at a steady pace until he's fully seated within her. Even then, her hips shift beneath his hands, her breath coming in short gasps as she adjusts to his girth. When she finally looks back over her shoulder at him again, still impatient, Thor adjusts his grip before he pulls back and thrusts in, falling quickly into a hungry rhythm that spills more water from the bath onto the floor. The sounds of their coupling echo obscenely through the chamber, but the sound only spurs them both to move faster, their movements more energetic as they work each other closer to climax. Thor reaches around until he can get his fingers on Brunnhilde's clit, teasing and rubbing the sensitive flesh as he adjusts his angle; when she chokes on a gasp, Thor knows he's found it, and quickens his pace. He ruts into her fast and hard, until she clenches around him, her cries filling the chamber as she comes. Thor is surprised by his own climax, and he swears, hips jerking even as he presses closer, emptying himself inside of her.

They stay joined for several long moments, the two of them catching their breath as Thor's cock softens and slips from her. The sight of his seed leaking from her pussy is almost enough to get Thor hard again, but Brunnhilde is already climbing from the bath. thor lets himself fall back against the bench, grinning up at her as she gathers her clothes and dresses. "So," he asks, genuinely curious. "Did I live up to your expectations?"

Brunnhilde pauses at the door, laughing as she tosses her answer over her shoulder, "That, my lord, will depend on whether I still feel you in the morning."

Thor's laugh follows her out the door, and he's still smiling to himself as he finally settles in for his long-awaited soak.

\---------------------------

Loki waits until he's sure the door to his rooms has shut behind him before he drops his guise, his magic rippling over him in a familiar green shimmer. It changes his dress back to his preferred tunics, flattens his chest, but... He does nothing for his lower half, not yet, at any rate.

He wants to see if, indeed, he'll still be able to feel Thor in the morning.


End file.
